


christmas song jukebox

by flosculatory



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas songs, Crack, Drunkenness, Gen, M/M, Secret Saito Gift Exchange, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 21:13:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13085493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flosculatory/pseuds/flosculatory
Summary: It started with Arthur drunkenly announcing that he had a secret.





	christmas song jukebox

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mrhiddles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrhiddles/gifts).



> This was written for [mercheart](https://mercheart.tumblr.com/)'s prompt "secret" for the Secret Saito Gift Exchange. Merry holidays & please forgive me!

It started with Arthur drunkenly announcing that he had a secret.

“I’m really good at secrets!” Ariadne yelled. “Extraction time! Someone wake up Cobb! To the dream machine!” She launched herself off the couch only to fall to the ground. “Yusuf! To the dream machine!”

Yusuf pulled her back onto the couch good-naturedly, murmuring, “Not with the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed. Besides, it seemed like Arthur was going to tell us anyway.”

“Tell you what?” Arthur asked, blank-faced.

Eames let out a chuckle. “Your big secret, darling.”

Arthur wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion, then his eyes lit up. “Oh! Is the secret that Eames is always the little spoon?”

The rest of them let out noises ranging from groaning (Eames) to booing (Ariadne) to Yusuf regretfully declaring that he already knew that.

“Wait, shush! I remember the real secret!” Arthur jumped up, eyeing each of them until they quieted down suitably.

“I...” Arthur said, gesturing grandiosely to himself, “know _Christmas_ songs.”

Ariadne’s booing started up again and she yelled, “Real secrets have dead wives involved!”

Arthur frowned. “But guys... I know _all_ the Christmas songs.”

There was a beat of silence.

“But aren’t you Jewish?” Yusuf asked.

“ _Yusuf!_ ” Ariadne hissed. “You can’t just ask him why he’s Jewish!”

Yusuf made an affronted noise but Arthur spoke over him.

“Picture this: a little Jewish boy, working retail. Held at the mercy of a manager- _cum_ -sadist, playing every Christmas song she could find for a full two months before Christmas and a month afterwards, too. And blammo! Christmas song jukebox. In my _brain._ ”

_Blammo?_ Eames mouthed to himself. 

Ariadne squinted her eyes. “Alright, let’s see what you got. Third verse of ‘Joy to the World’. No one _ever_ gets that far.”

Arthur nodded. “Now, it varies by version, obviously. If you go by Mariah Carey, there’s some bullshit about boys and girls and joy to people, but _no_. Today, we go old school.”

“ _No more let sins and sorrows grow, nor thorns infest the ground: he comes to make his blessings flow, far as the curse is found._ ” Arthur sang, ending with a wobbly bow.

Eames laughed and clapped. “I _knew_ you were singing that in the shower the other day, you lying heathen!”

Ariadne conferred with Yusuf, who had pulled up the lyrics on his phone. “So it looks like you’re good, bucko. But how good?”

“Can you do ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’?” Yusuf piped up.

Arthur and Ariadne both scoffed. “Yusuf, it’s like you’re not even trying!”

Ariadne considered. “There’s no way your manager would’ve played ‘The Night Santa Went Crazy’. Right?”

“ _And he picked up a flamethrower and he barbecued Blitzen, and he took a big bite and said, ‘It tastes just like chicken!’_ ” Arthur shook his head. “You’d be surprised what she played.”

Eames and Yusuf looked horrified.

“This is amazing! More, I demand it!” Ariadne yelled.

\---

One hour and one dead phone battery later, Yusuf called it a night, despite Ariadne’s protests.

“Yusuf, we can’t let him _win_! He almost slipped up on that last one, I can catch him, I swear!”

“Ari, I hate to say it, but if he wasn’t thrown by the 16th century Finnish song you found for him, I’m not sure it’s actually going to happen.”

Ariadne blew a raspberry at him. “Traitor!”

“Come on, up you get, you can start again in the morning. You can even search for songs on your computer and _not_ kill my phone!” Yusuf helped her up and walked her over to the stairs. “Good night, you two,” he called over to Arthur and Eames. “This was certainly... educational.”

Arthur waved at them, still hopping with enthusiasm over his performance. He then threw himself onto Eames’ lap. “Eames, I won!”

Eames jolted awake from his drowse. 

“Did you fall asleep on me?” Arthur asked indignantly.

“Of course not,” Eames sputtered. “And if I did, it was only because your voice was so angelic, it lulled me into such a state of peace and tranquility.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Sure. Or you’re just getting _old_ , you old old-person.”

“Oi! I take offense to that!”

“Besides, you never gave me a song request. You have yet to test my secret _talent_.” This was accompanied by Arthur trying (and failing) to waggle his eyebrows.

“Are you trying to be sexy right now? After just calling me an old old-person?”

“Do you have a song or not, old man?” Arthur asked, poking Eames in the ribs.

Eames yelped. “Fine! What was it that Yusuf mentioned at the start? ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’?”

Arthur was about to protest, then looked at Eames’ exasperated face and let a small smile creep onto his face.

“ _Oh, I won't ask for much this Christmas, I won't even wish for snow,_ ” Arthur began, adjusting himself so he was properly straddling Eames.

“ _I'm just going to keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe... 'cause I just want you here tonight, holding onto me so tight, what more can I do? Baby, all I want for Christmas is you._ ” Arthur ended the song lightly grinding down and singing softly into Eames’ ear. Eames, in turn, had his eyes shut and hands loosely gripping Arthur’s hips. 

He groaned and Arthur laughed, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before whispering, “Happy Hanukkah, old man,” and running up the stairs.

Eames groaned louder, and lumbered after him. “You sodding heathen tease!”

\---

(Passed out in a heap on the floor by the couch, Cobb shifted restlessly before settling back into sleep. He would wake up in the morning with a confusing swirl of Christmas imagery in his mind, most notably of a murderous Santa eating a reindeer with his dead wife. He would then promptly make it his new year’s resolution to stop drinking with his team.)


End file.
